


Local Radio Makes You Fall In Love

by gosh_zillah



Series: Wayne/Daryl [7]
Category: Letterkenny (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, The are both 14 in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 01:25:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15183680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gosh_zillah/pseuds/gosh_zillah
Summary: just-tea-thanks from tumblr suggested “first kiss”





	Local Radio Makes You Fall In Love

**Author's Note:**

> thank you whatdoyoumeanit'snotawesome for makin' sure i use the english language correctly

“How do ya’ reckon this is any good anyway? My dad don’t drink anything without a dog on the bottle,” Wayne asks, taking the plastic handle of vodka and bag of all-dressed chips from Darry with one hand and pulling him up to the loft in the other. 

“Give yer balls a tug, Wayne, you wanna go ask your dad for some Gus n’ Bru? I’ll be here waitin’ while you get yer ass skinned,” Darry snorts. He’s trying and failing to regain his balance on the ledge of the loft and Wayne can tell by the way his arms start flailing that Darry’s about to eat shit 10 feet below if Wayne doesn’t step in. 

Wayne’s strugglin’ to get there in time, and his arms wrap around Darry’s waist just as soon as the curly haired kid starts to squeal. Wayne picks him up over the railing and tosses him onto the loose hay. Momentum and bad footing has Wayne following right after him. The only thing Wayne can think when he falls and finds himself on top of Darry with his face buried in the straw to the side of the other boy’s is that they aren't even drunk yet. Getting down from the loft afterwards is gonna be fun at least. 

When Wayne pushed up on his arms and lifts himself off of Darry he stops with his arms extended and takes a good look at Darry’s face. He’s flushed up to his ears and lookin’ anywhere else but Wayne’s face. 

“Aw, she’s bashful,” Wayne teases, smacking Darry’s cheek lightly before moving off and sitting himself down next to his friend. Darry’s fiddling with his little portable radio and trying to tune it into the local station without too much fuzz in the background. 

The year is 1997 and Tracy Lawrence is croonin’ “How a Cowgirl Says Goodbye” through the $5 speakers of a portable radio. Darry’s crackin’ open the bottle of vodka that one of the skids outside the liquor store was all too excited to get them in exchange for a $20. 

Wayne’s rollin’ a joint for them to share. One of the Bay brothers promised it’s the best they’ll ever smoke, and Wayne likes to pretend to be skeptical of the Johnny Red Eye, but he really doesn’t have enough experience to have an opinion of good or bad weed. 

The joint he rolls is maybe a bit too tight and it’s a bit pregnant in the middle but Darry can’t roll for shit so when he passes it over to him to light he doesn’t comment. He takes too big of a drag and coughs up a lung before handing it back to Wayne. Darry tries to wet his dry throat with a swig of vodka that has him hacking even more.   
Wayne’s smacking him on the back over and over, grinning so big it’s startin’ to hurt as he takes his own hit. It has him coughin’ a bit as well because if’n y’aint coughin, y’aint doin’ it right.” He leans back in the straw, looking up through the skylight and up at the stars. Darry joins him when he can get his breathing under control. He’s taking deep breaths and giggling himself. They’re propped up, pressed flush shoulder to thigh, passing a joint and cheap vodka back and forth until it burns down to nothing and the bottle’s a little past half-empty. 

“Would you go toe-curlin’ with Reba McEntire?” Darry asks because “The Night The Lights Went Out In Georgia” is coming soft through the radio. 

“Hard no.” 

“Why?”

“Super hard no.” 

“You got an exclamation, Big Shoots?” Darry asks, smackin’ him on the shoulder. 

“Are ya’ even listenin’ to the song, bud? I’d do her any wrong and she’ll go pumpin’ my ass full of lead and get away with it scot-free too,” Wayne says, gesturing toward the little hand held radio. “Then she’d go blaming the murder on Katy seein’ as she’s my only sibling. And they’d hang her!” 

“I think she means her brother,” Darry interjects. 

“What?” 

“Reba, I think she means her brother. She let her brother get blamed for it,” he explains. 

“Oh,” Wayne says and they leave it at that. 

A couple of hours have passed of them talkin’, tellin’ bad jokes and gagging on liquor. Wayne’s laughin’ his ass off because Darry decides to serenade him by singin’ along to Randy Travis in the most dramatic and out of tune rendition of “Forever and Ever, Amen” he’s ever heard in his life. The song rolls to an end and Darry holds on to that last note as long as he can before his voice cracks something awful which makes another round of laughter roll through Wayne like a heart attack. The radio host prepares them for the hit coming up next while Wayne gives Darry a well-deserved round of applause. 

“You sure know how to make a gal feel special, Darry,” Wayne teases, passing back the bottle. Darry’s smiling at him and Wayne swears it’s so bright it’s outshinin’ the stars. 

They are 14 years old and feelin’ warm and heavy. The straw pile is feelin’ as comfortable as any bed either have ever been in. Wayne’s lookin’ at the night sky singin’ “Two Dozen Roses” in a note deeper than any of the members of Shenandoah could ever hope to reach. He drops his arm to his side and it lands on Darry’s, and he goes to move away, mumblin’ out a ‘sorry’ when Darry’s fingers catch around his wrist, holding him in place. 

He turns his head to check on his bud but finds Darry layin’ on his side, starin’ at Wayne with bloodshot puppy dog eyes, like he’s thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’ real hard. He doesn’t move his hand, doesn’t move to hold his hand like Wayne’s half-hopin’ he won’t, half-hopin’ he will. 

“Do you ever think-” Darry stops himself short, won’t finish his thought and lookin’ at Wayne’s shoulder. It’s silent for a second- save for the radio finishin’ off “Two Dozen Roses” while Darry’s busy avoiding him and Wayne can’t look away from his friend’s anxious look. 

“Pitter patter, Darry, do I ever think of what?” Wayne snaps, his own anxiety makin’ him rude. Darry looks back into his eyes and cracks a fake little smile. 

“I forgot what I was gonna say.” He laughs a fake little laugh. Wayne will let him have an out if he needs it, he supposes. 

“You are interplanetary, bud,” Wayne says, watching Darry’s eyes flick down to watch his mouth while he speaks. 

“Yeah,” Darry agrees with a small smile, not lookin’ away. Wayne licks his lips, nervous for some reason, and Darry blue eyes follow the movement of his tongue. 

Darry’s palm is gettin’ real sweaty where it’s still holdin’ on to his wrist like he might run away if Darry doesn’t keep a hold of him and Wayne knows for a fact that his palms don’t look any better. 

“You too though, huh?” Darry asks, lookin back up into his eyes. 

Wayne turns on his side. They are facing each other, breathing in each others air. 

It’s a warm night and their breath smells like weed and vodka and the radio is giving them “The Closer You Get”. Wayne’s never been a big fan of Alabama but he’ll be damned if they don’t know what they’re talkin’ about. 

“I’m what?” he asks. 

The closer you get, the further I fall...

“Interplanetary.” Darry explains, lookin’ up at him through his eyelashes. Katy’d call those ‘The Big Eyes’ and maybe he never believed her because she’s 12 and there is no way she has more experience in the flirtatious habits of people than him. Wayne can’t think of a better example than the way Darry’s lookin’ at him now though- like he’s responsible for hangin’ the stars in the sky. 

“Yeah,” Wayne says, “I think I must be right up there with ya, bud.” 

“Good,” Darry says, with some finality that Wayne can’t understand. 

It’s then that Darry let’s go of his wrist. He runs his hand up Wayne’s bare arm, slow and heavy, like he’s givin’ Wayne a chance to move away. Wayne’s arms light up with goosebumps and he holds his breath. 

Darry must feel like he’s tested the water’s enough because he’s grabbin’ a fist full of Wayne’s t-shirt and smooshin’ their lips together in one uncoordinated move. Wayne’s closes his eyes and his body goes stiff in an instant and he holds it that way until Darry moves away. 

Wayne keeps his eyes closed but he lets out the breath he was holding. It’s quiet between them for too long and the radio is playing “Young Love” by The Judds and isn’t that just a kick in the pants. 

“Wayne, I-” Darry starts but Wayne cuts him off before we can start to try to talk his way out of this one. Wayne presses their lips together again, softer this time, and moves his hand to the back of Darry’s head to pull him closer like he’s seen the older kids do against the lockers between classes. Darry’s still got a handful of his shirt and Wayne can feel the grip go slack. Darry acts like he doesn't know what to do with his hands for a second before he’s holdin’ onto Wayne’s shoulder. 

Wayne pulls away first and he’s sure if he weren't so tanked he’d be worried that his dad could see them. Could be a part of the atmosphere they’ve created with the smell of weed hangin’ in the air and the sound of them panting into the space between them and Randy Travis singin’ “Deeper than the Holler” just for them. Instead, they have heavy limbs and bloodshot eyes and completely secluded in the loft layin’ in the worlds softest pile of straw on the clearest night with the brightest stars Letterkenny has ever seen. 

“Do you- uhm,” Darry starts, cheeks redder than Wayne’s ever seen them, eyes as bright as he thinks they’ll ever be, “do you want to roll another one?” 

Wayne’s feels a tingle in his lips and he has to keep himself from reaching up to touch them. 

“Sure,” he says, cracking a smile, “whatever you want, ya fuckin’ skid.” 

Darry scoffs and tosses a handful of straw at his face. 

Diamond Rio is singin’ “Meet in the Middle” and they both agree that he’s a fuckin’ Sally and change the station to top 40s instead.

**Author's Note:**

> if you have any requests, leave a comment


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